After The Fall
by AnnieSometimes
Summary: Whatever happened to Azula after the Fall of the Fire Nation? It was never specified, so I thought I'd put down in writing what I thought could have happened. R&R please.


A/N: I haven't read very many fanfics from this point of view, so I figured I'd give it a shot. This has been floating around my documents folder for some time - it's taken quite awhile to write, so if there are any weird skips or anything, that's why ^^'' This is Azula's line of thought from her prison cell after the Fall of the Fire Nation. Hope you enjoy, and as always, I LOVE comments. Please leave them. :]

Why couldn't the rest of the Nations see it? Why was it so hard to understand? It wasn't like it was _difficult_. The Fire Nation was the greatest civilization on the planet. Obviously. The Fire Nation could manipulate metal into ships, walls, anything almost. And meanwhile the other Nations were dragging behind, still using wood, stone and snow. How laughable.

But they were stupid - chocked full of ignorant people. No real schooling in most cities, no solid governments - except for maybe New Ozai (she refused to call it 'Omashu') and Ba Sing Se. How on Earth did they really function? Could they really be blamed? It was a shame, really. So many people, so many minds that - had they been bred in the Fire Nation - could have had excellent potential. She remembered a certain warrior-girl; how she had admired her courage and her power to lead...as she struck her down. Silly, silly...had she been born in the Fire Nation, she would have known that fans only make Fire stronger. Or that petulant little Water-Tribe brat...or her brother...they were lost without the greatness of her Nation.

The only group of people she'd seen thus far that had greatness instilled upon them was the Dai Li. And even they betrayed her in the end...five minutes late? She still couldn't get over the injustice, but to be fair, it was only one of the great injustices she had to deal with. Like prison. At first, they had had no idea how to treat her. Should they make her comfortable? Oh, but she was too crafty to be trusted (she'd taken pride in that). Should they treat her like a rat (she'd have liked to have seen them try)? Oh, but that might make her _more_ intent on escape...

Like anything could make her more intent on escaping...but she was placed in a multi-nation prison. Had it been purely Fire Nation, it wouldn't have been nearly as difficult escaping - she knew that system inside-out through research. But this...this was new. Guards of all nationalities - all benders of some sort. Again, just Fire would have been peachy, she fought fire with fire extraordinarily well. But there were Water-Benders here. Even rumors that they knew blood-bending. She had never heard of that technique until she'd heard a few guards gossiping about it outside of her cell.

It had turned out that they gave her a modest living in here. Nothing flammable, of course. Everything was made of metal, and the room could be heated or cooled depending on what she asked for, so there would never be a need for blankets. Her clothes were simple frocks or modest two-pieces at best. Changing was always funny, for the guards handed her one garment at a time, but not before she was stripped completely. If she tried to burn it, that was that. She would go without clothes, and they would turn the room unbearably cold. Even her own hair was cut abnormally short - had she been able to look in a mirror, she would imagine that she looked like a boy. But she got good food, and decent facilities. Compared to where other prisoners used the bathroom, and what _they_ ate, she was living like a queen. The phrase irked her; she was a Queen! She shouldn't be here. She wished she was able to soak in the other prisoners' jealousy, but she was kept in solitary confinement, monitored visits allowed only once a week. And her visitors were never allowed beyond the glass wall that she was lead to - in chains. If there were any visitors at all. Most times, there was nobody - but her brother (how she _hated_ to call him that) came a few times, asking for forgiveness.

She never did forgive him, though. Even though she knew that if he had just let the prison do as they had pleased, she'd be dead at the moment, and it was thanks to him that she got such nice things in comparison to everybody else, she still hated him. She hated him for taking her place on the throne. For defeating her. For everything. He didn't deserve to head such a great Nation. He was leading them all to their downfall, didn't anybody see?! All their work in the Hundred Year War was lost! How could the citizens stand for such disgusting behavior from their leader? She would have ruled them with an iron fist - the way they were supposed to be ruled. The war would have been won already if not for her sniveling, peace-loving, do-gooder brother. The only good he had ever really done, in her opinion, was to be banished. She'd loved being an only child for three years. But even his one good act ended up a failure - it led him to the Avatar's side - to her country's downfall. She despised Zuko.

She found early on that there really was no chance for escape here. She was guarded by dozens of guards, and she didn't even know when they switched out their shifts. She did know, however, that she was behind eight sets of thick steel doors - guards on both sides. She had seen this when she had had been sick a month and a half before, and feigned unconsciousness. They took her through the halls, but when she actually got outside of the long hall of steel, she had actually fainted. Too bad she couldn't have feigned the sickness as well.

Her weak body was among the things she hated. Her room, though spacious compared to others' rooms, was not big enough to try to bend in. She couldn't practice her katas without risk of running into a steel girder in the low ceiling, her bed which was welded to the wall, or her small desk and chair, also welded to the wall and floor. She'd tried practicing despite these risks in her first few weeks - but her feet and fingers soon had to be bandaged. Coming into contact with tough steel after a swift movement did not render her apt to try again, and fire heated up the metal rather quickly. She remembered times when her 'furniture' would turn red from the heat - and she'd touch a piece by accident...those burns were worse that the first few weeks of training with her father.

At the thought of her father, Azula felt a pang near her heart. It wasn't quite pain, but something close to it. Love had never been taught in her family, and never given after her mother left. She had never really understood the ties that bound people to one another. She had felt...angry when Mai and Ty Lee had betrayed her at the Boiling Rock, but barely anything more. She remembered the moisture that had seeped from her eyes that day - she hadn't known then what it was, and she still was unsure. Indeed, that was the first time among many that she would cry without understanding why. When she thought she saw her mother in the mirror, when Zuko and the little Water-Tribe peasant defeated her - but only when they worked together. The first day of prison, being escorted in. It had been a long procession; people from all Nations had showed up to watch the infamous princess be locked away. When she had first seen the crowd, she was glad. Surely the Fire Nation members of this crowd wouldn't let the guards take her away! She was royalty!

But then the jeers started. And the throwing of things. The rude hand gestures, the curses, being physically attacked by random people in the mob - and the guards with her did nothing to stop it. When she was tripped, they did not help her up - and it had been slow work getting herself up due to the chains that had bound her wrists. When a random hand pulled her hair out, they didn't acknowledge her scream. Only when her robe caught fire by somebody's hand did a Water-Bender step in, only to put it out with freezing water that was almost as painful as the fire. That was the most humiliating day of her life.

She wasn't sure if what she felt was love, sadness, or heartbreak. She had never experienced or seen either one in true action. The people around her always seemed to know what they were feeling; why was it that she could not? Was she not complete? Was she not whole?

But suddenly, as soon as she had begun to feel these pitiful feelings, she snuffed them out purposefully. She had no business with weaknesses such as those. It was a load of garbage. Of course she was 'whole'. Just because she wasn't burdened by petty feelings didn't make her weak; it made her strong. She was surprised at herself for thinking like that; even here in prison, she wasn't usually melancholy. The only feeling she seemed to really feel was hate, and that was probably the one feeling that enabled her strength more than any other could. She laughed aloud, and got up from her metal bed. She felt normal once again. Right. She felt like Fire-Bending. Then she grumbled. She couldn't. And then she felt the familiar lash of anger about that fact.

She screamed out in rage, and thrashed violently, letting fire out through her fists despite knowing how it would heat everything up. A small slot on her metal door opened, and a set of eyes peered in. She sent fire their way, hoping that for once they would not be quicker than her; the lack of training had taken its toll. She would always despise this place. She would always hate everything that put her here! Especially Zuko.

* * *

-Years Later-

* * *

"Is she ready for me yet?" a man asked, leaning against a glass wall.

"Not yet, sir. She should be here in a few minutes; I believe that they wanted to get her into something nicer to see the Fire Lord's father" a young guard answered the man.

"Well, if it makes them happy" the much older man said contentedly; he was in no hurry.

There was a span of about twenty minutes before the man grew impatient again; he was never a patient man.

"Would you be able to let me go see what the hold-up is?" he asked the guard, just a bit of authority in his voice that brooked no argument.

"It would be my pleasure, my Lord"

"Now, now, my good man, the times have changed" the man said sternly, but with a heavy edge of enjoyment; he was just teasing. The young guard smiled.

The pair walked down the main hall, toward the prisoner's room. Upon the first door, the guard bowed to his elders, who knocked a special knock on the door. It opened with a wheeze. It sounded like it much needed some oil on its hinges.

The second door passed just like the first, as well as the three after that.

"Three more to go, sir" the guard said, just a little out of breath. The man, however, must have been used to quick paces, because he looked fine despite his age.

A few minutes later, the final door opened, only to show the pair quite a scene. Water-Benders and normal healers alike were bent over a metal bed welded to one wall, attending to the figure on it. The figure appeared to be lifeless.

"Azula!" the man shouted. He ran to her side, pulling one of the regular healers out of the way. He grabbed her hand in his - he briefly thought that he could not remember the last time a gesture like this had passed between them. It could very well have never happened at all. He regretted this. Before he could dwell on their poor relationship, he was pulled into the moment.

Water-Benders were flitting around, finding more water and shouting at each other. Guards were trying to stay as close as possible to Azula, in case this was a ploy; but the man didn't think so. Almost every inch of Azula was burned. Her clothes were still on in all the right places, and for this, the man felt a twinge of relief. He would never have been able to get it out of his mind if he had to see his sister naked; it was one of the many things he hoped to never, ever see. The fact that she was around sixty wouldn't have helped, either.

"What happened here?" the man roared.

"We came to get her, and she was lying on the floor like this; please be careful, Lord Zuko, some of the metal is still very hot; we think she was trying to bend again" a soft-spoken young Water-Bender told him. At that very moment, the Water-Bender brought the healing-water out of Azula's biggest burn, and she screamed at what must have been the pain returning to her. She opened her eyes - and immediately found Zuko's. Her mouth went into a grimace, and her face became not only pained, but angry as well.

"Get out of here, _brother_!" she screamed, obviously disgusted by the title. She wrenched her hand from his.

"Azula, I - you're -"

"_Get out_!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I'll _never_ forgive you, traitor!!!" she screeched again.

Zuko's breath caught. Still? After so long, she still hadn't gotten over everything? He had hoped, that with years that brought on more maturity, she would learn to see her mistakes, her flaws, and work to overcome them. Apparently no such thing had taken place. She had just held onto her hatred, her grief, and let it consume her. He sighed, and backed away. A healer soon took his place.

It was over in a few minutes. The Water-Benders had clearly done everything in their ability to keep her alive - as per Zuko's request - but their efforts had been in vain. She lay on the hard bed, lifeless. It was just she and Zuko in the room; nobody else wanted to spend any more time with her - even dead - than was strictly necessary. Zuko even heard some sighs of relief as the healers walked out of the door. Somebody had covered her with a tarp-looking thing. Zuko didn't feel right leaving her like that. He unbuttoned his cloak - made of the finest silk - and laid in on her over the tarp. A tear fell from his eye onto her forehead, rolling back into her grey-streaked shorn hair.

In the fifty some-odd years since the war ended, she had still never forgiven him. He let himself succumb to grief right there in the room. He sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor. Though they had never been loving towards each other in any way, shape or form, he still loved her. She was _his sister_. He had often hoped that she would prove trustworthy enough for him to be able to transfer her to somewhere more comfortable - though Mai constantly warned him against this. He knew better to act on his whim, though, because she never did prove worthy of it. Her guards had reported that she remained too dangerous to stay anywhere else.

After a few minutes of unadorned crying, he mentally shook himself and got up. He needed to relay this bit of news to his son. The Fire Lord needed to keep updated on what the most dangerous criminals were up to, and he might want to know that his aunt was dead, even though he had never known her. Zuko got up, swept the dust off of his robe, and walked down the long hallway, wondering who was going to take Azula's place in the tiny cell guarded by eight doors.


End file.
